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He Called Me A Convenient Luna Novel Cover

He Called Me A Convenient Luna

After her father’s death, Elena is forced into a loveless marriage with Alpha Silas to secure her pack's future. Silas treats her as a mere tool for stability, openly labeling her a convenient Luna while harboring feelings for another. Despite the cold rejection and constant disrespect, Elena strives to protect her people. However, when a long-buried secret emerges, she must decide if staying is worth the pain or if she should find her own path.
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Chapter 3

The ceremonial hall of the Black Moon pack had never looked more magnificent. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across marble floors, while hundreds of the most powerful werewolves in America filled the ornate seats. Pack leaders from every major territory had traveled here to witness what they believed would be my ascension to Luna status.

I stood in the preparation chamber behind the main hall, staring at my reflection in the floor-length mirror. The blood-red silk dress clung to my frame like liquid fire, its deep crimson a stark contrast to the traditional white Luna gown hanging forgotten on its hook. The color of severance. The color of endings.

"Miss Barbara?" My assistant's voice trembled from the doorway. "They're asking for you. Alpha Lucian is already at the altar."

I turned slowly, watching her eyes widen as she took in my appearance. The red dress wasn't just a deviation from tradition—it was a declaration of war.

"Tell them I'll be right there," I said, my voice steady as steel.

She hesitated, clearly wanting to ask about the dress, about why I looked more like I was attending a funeral than a coronation. But something in my expression stopped her, and she hurried away.

I picked up the small silver blade from the vanity—a ceremonial knife I'd acquired months ago, just in case. The ancient Blood Severance Ritual hadn't been performed in over a century, but I'd studied every detail. Tonight, the werewolf elite would witness history.

The grand doors opened, and the murmur of hundreds of voices hit me like a wave. Every eye in the hall turned toward me, expecting to see a blushing bride in white silk. Instead, they saw something else entirely.

I walked down the center aisle with measured steps, my spine straight, my chin high. The red dress rustled like whispered promises of revolution. Gasps rippled through the crowd as they registered what they were seeing. This wasn't the meek Barbara they knew. This was someone else entirely.

Lucian stood at the ceremonial altar, resplendent in his formal Alpha regalia. His confident smile faltered as his eyes met mine, confusion flickering across his features. Behind him, I caught sight of Miranda in the VIP section, wearing the diamond necklace that should have been mine, her face a mask of barely concealed smugness.

But I didn't walk toward Lucian. I didn't take my place beside him as everyone expected.

Instead, I turned toward the center of the ceremonial platform, where the ancient speaking stone waited. The crowd's murmur turned to confused whispers, then to stunned silence as I stepped onto the raised dais.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, my voice carrying clearly through the hall's perfect acoustics. "You came here tonight expecting to witness a coronation. Instead, you will witness something far more rare."

Lucian's voice cut through the silence, sharp with authority. "Barbara, what are you doing? Come here. Now."

I turned to face him, and for the first time in seven years, I looked at him as an equal. "I am Barbara Chen, daughter of the Chen bloodline, and I stand before you tonight to formally renounce any claim to the position of Luna of the Black Moon pack."

The hall erupted. Voices rose in shock, confusion, outrage. I heard someone shout "Impossible!" while another called out "She can't do that!" But I raised my hand, and something in my bearing commanded silence.

"Furthermore," I continued, my voice growing stronger, "I invoke the ancient right of Blood Severance, formally dissolving any pseudo-mate bond that may exist between myself and Alpha Lucian Mills."

I drew the ceremonial blade from my dress, its silver surface gleaming under the chandeliers. The crowd gasped collectively. Even the eldest werewolves present had never seen this ritual performed.

Lucian's face had gone white, then red with rage. "You will stop this nonsense immediately," he snarled, his Alpha aura beginning to radiate outward like a physical force. "You will come here, you will apologize to our guests, and you will complete this ceremony as planned."

The familiar pressure of his dominance washed over me—the same overwhelming force that had kept me compliant for seven years. I felt it crash against my consciousness like waves against a cliff.

And then... nothing.

The aura that should have driven me to my knees, that should have compelled my submission, simply dissolved around me like mist. I stood tall, unmoved, unaffected.

Lucian's eyes widened in shock. He pushed harder, pouring more of his Alpha power into the command, his face straining with effort. The lesser wolves in the audience began to shift uncomfortably under the pressure, but I remained perfectly still.

"Impossible," he breathed, his voice barely audible.

I smiled then, cold and sharp as winter moonlight. "You never bothered to learn what I really am, did you, Lucian? You saw what you wanted to see—a convenient tool, a useful pet. But you never looked deeper."

I drew the blade across my palm, letting my blood drip onto the ancient speaking stone. The crimson drops seemed to glow against the white marble, and I felt something fundamental shift in the air around us.

"By blood spilled freely, by choice made in clarity, by the ancient laws that bind our kind," I intoned, the ritual words flowing from memory, "I sever all ties that bind me to this pack, to this Alpha, to this false life I have lived."

The power in the room changed. Several of the eldest pack leaders leaned forward, their faces grave with recognition. They knew what they were witnessing—a ritual so old, so binding, that not even the Council of Elders could overturn it.

Lucian took a step toward me, his hands clenched into fists. "You can't do this. I won't let you. You belong to me!"

"I belong to no one," I replied, my voice carrying to every corner of the silent hall. "I never did. That was your first mistake—and your last."

I pressed my bleeding palm to the speaking stone, feeling the ancient magic accept my offering. The severance was complete. Whatever threads had bound me to this place, to this man, to this life of diminishment, were cut forever.

The crowd sat in stunned silence, hundreds of the most powerful werewolves in America witnessing the complete destruction of everything they'd come here to celebrate. And in that silence, I heard the sound of my own liberation—as sharp and clear as breaking glass.

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